


A Stroll Through The Pumpkin Patch

by TheMeaningofHaste



Series: A Very Stucky Halloween [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky is a flirty little shit who should not be let out of the house, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, SO MUCH FLUFF, pumpkin patches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 01:52:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2490143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMeaningofHaste/pseuds/TheMeaningofHaste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up poor during the 1930's meant Steve had never gotten a chance to experience the beauty of Fall in New England the way it was meant to be seen. Now, with Bucky back by his side they have the luxury of time.</p>
<p>or how Steve and Bucky drive upstate to take in a quintessential fall tradition: pumpkin patches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

New York during the fall is something you never truly get used to, when a chill begins to creep in to the air and the world comes alive with color. The city turns crisp and bright, but the real treat is off of the island. The real view is upstate, best seen driving along the Hudson River.

                Deep slopes of trees normally blanket the river banks in a deep green but come October the leaves begin to die, turning in to various deep hues. It starts slowly, just a few leaves at a time. Next it’s just a few bright orange trees standing out amidst the green, but almost overnight everything changes. One morning you wake up and the hills are a mosaic of burnt orange, golden yellow, deep red and every shade in between.

                When Steve was young, growing up in Brooklyn meant never getting to see fall the way it was meant to be seen. The lowering temperatures meant he had to limit his time outside, keeping Bucky awake with worry every time he sniffled. If Steve wasn’t sick then they were spending their free time trying to scrape by enough money to pay the rent. The idea of taking a day trip up north just for the view never crossed their minds.

                Bucky came home in November after almost six months spent on the move, staying two steps ahead of the remaining Hydra cells and one step behind Steve as he desperately tried to find himself again. It took almost a week before Bucky spoke to anyone and another month before he spoke to anyone who wasn’t Steve. After two months they began sharing a bed again, curling up like they used to, to keep out the winter chill. Finally, after time and a little help from the Asgardians Bucky had regained his memories, they stopped dancing around the subject. Six months of living together, relearning the new person Bucky had become, and they fell back in to each other, picking up their relationship where it left off as if no time had passed.

Now, almost a year later, the leaves were starting to change and they had the luxury of _time._ ‘Leafers’, Sam had called them. People who made a special trip up to New England to drive through the country side, taking in the autumn foliage and visiting farms to pick their own apples. Couples made traditions out of taking pictures in a pumpkin patch before picking out a gourd to take home. In a world that was so focused on convenience and luxury, the idea that there was still a place that encouraged you to get outside and be a part of the process was particularly appealing.

 They pulled away from Avengers Tower as the sun began to rise in the horizon, Bucky wrapped tightly around Steve on his motorcycle. Bucky’s hands rested against Steve’s chest, tucked under the bottom of his sweater and leather jacket, and while the morning air was cold against their skin, it didn’t matter.

They drove lazily up the interstate, taking 9 up to Red Hook. The road took them out of the way through dozens of small towns and giving them a stunning view of the river. Bruce had given them the name of his favorite orchard, large enough to have all of the quintessential fall activities but remote enough that they weren’t likely to be flocked by admirers.

Steve pulled of the highway almost three hours later, taking a dirt road up to the orchard. As he turned off the bike and flipped down the kickstand Steve chuckled. Bucky was still wrapped tightly around him, nuzzling against Steve’s neck and tracing distracting patterns against his stomach.

“Get off you lazy jerk, we’re here.” Steve grinned, running a hand through his wind tousled hair as Bucky finally slipped off with a grumble. Something about being comfortable where he was thanks and that this whole trip better be worth it.

“Where’s your festive spirit Buck?” Steve slipped his hand in to Bucky’s, the metal cold against his skin.

Bucky gave him the same stupid grin he always made whenever Steve held his metal hand, like he couldn’t believe what Steve was doing or that he was lucky enough to have Steve in his life again. It was quickly replaced with his trademark smirk, his lips quirking in a crooked smile. “I must’ve left it in my other pants. We can’t all be Captain America!”

They snarked back and forth, trading insults and sass as they made their way through the trees to a small barn. It was still early enough that there were only a handful of families around, kids running through the rows of trees, jumping to see who could pick the apple from the highest branch.

“’Morning folks,” an elderly man greeted them from the entrance of the barn. He wore a pair of worn overalls and a bright smile. “You kids here for some apple picking?

Bucky snorted softly at being called a kid by someone who had technically been born at least twenty years after them. Steve nudged him in the ribs, trying to stifle his own laughter as he replied. “Yes sir we are. This is our first time making it out of the city this time of year.”

While Bucky had always been quick to charm the ladies with his crooked grin and quick wit, Steve Rogers had a gift for charming his elders in to thinking he was anything more than the little shit he really was. Even after so many years on ice, he hadn’t lost his touch, even when confronted by such a cynical new generation. The older man was clearly swayed by Steve’s manners, and pulled a large canvas bag out of a wooden crate.

“You boys are in for a real treat.” It was obvious as he spoke that the man loved his farm and the chance to talk about it. “Take this bag and pick whatever looks good. Feel free to try any of the varieties so you know what they taste like. I don’t use any of them damn pesticides so they’re safe to eat right off the tree.”

With the bag, the man handed over a small map of the property that showed where each varietal of apple could be found, as well as the location of the pumpkin patch and a miniature hay bale maze.

“Who knew there were so many fucking types of apples,” Bucky muttered, reading over the map as they walked over to the trees. “Seriously listen to this shit: pink lady, gala, jazz, empire, mcintosh, fucking braeburn. Who needs this many choices?”

Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky continued to rant, grabbing a fistful of his boyfriend’s sweater and dragging him down an empty row. Apparently Steve had picked empire apples, and they were surrounded by trees. The apples were bright red with tints of green around the stem. Steve plucked one down and ran his thumb over the smooth skin, wishing he’d had the foresight to bring his sketchpad. The varying hues reminded him of the trees they had seen on their drive.

A loud crunch broke him from his observations. Steve turned to see Bucky biting in to an apple, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily at the sweet taste. “Fuck that’s good,” Bucky groaned, his tongue darting out to lick the juice of his lips.

Steve nodded dumbly, suddenly completely distracted and way more aroused than he had any right to be in public, especially when Bucky hadn’t even touched him. Bucky lit up, his lips glossy from the apple curving in to a wicked grin as he noticed Steve’s obvious discomfort.

Licking over his lips again, this time his movements long and drawn out, Bucky stepped closer, looking up at Steve through his lashes. “Wanna try some Stevie?”

Bucky Barnes was a goddamn tease but Steve was completely helpless to resist, leaning forward to take a bite of the offered fruit. The apple was sweet with just a hint of tart as the juices ran over his tongue. Bucky stepped closer, now only inches away as Steve swallowed the fruit with a gulp. Fuck, they were in public and he was supposed to be a role model and- Bucky rose up on to his toes, brushing his lips against Steve’s.

Dropping the apple in his hand, Steve cupped Bucky’s cheeks, holding him close as his brain completely shut down. The kiss was sticky as his tongue darted out to taste Bucky’s lips. Bucky’s mouth dropped open with a gasp and Steve licked inside. He tasted tart and sweet with a hint of the bitter coffee they had stopped for during their trip.

Bucky’s muffled gasps were intoxicating and Steve had to fight to pull away. The happy shrieks of children nearby reminding him that they were out in the open damn it. As Steve pulled away, Bucky leaned forward, doing his best to remain pressed against the Captain. “Buck, there’s kids around,” Steve whined as lips trailed down his neck.

“So, they have to learn about the birds and the bees some time.” Bucky’s lips brushed against Steve’s skin as he spoke.

“Not by example.”

Bucky’s grin was wicked as he pulled away, slipping his metal hand in Steve’s back pocket, cupping his ass as he walked forward, plucking another ripe apple from the tree as though nothing was happening. As though Steve didn’t have to subtly readjust his jeans.

They made their way up and down every row, picking a handful of each variety of apples. Though, before a new variety made it in to the canvas bag they picked one to try, sampling how it tasted fresh off the tree and against their lips.

The sun was high in the sky by the time they reached the end of the orchard. Bucky had the heavy bag slung over his shoulder and his fingers tangled in Steve’s when he saw the pumpkins. The large orange gourds dotted a slopping hillside, bordered by wide benches that had been built from hay bales. As they got closer, they could see that the pumpkin patch was much like the orchard. There were more shapes, sizes and varieties of pumpkin than either man knew existed.

Bright orange, traditional carving pumpkins ranged from no bigger than the palm of Steve’s hand to ones as big as his motorcycle. What anyone needed with a pumpkin that large was beyond comprehension.

“We need one of these!” Bucky had run ahead and was kneeling in a small patch of dark orange pumpkins that looked like the teenager version of a gourd, awkwardly shaped and covered in large bumps.

Steve smiled as he watched his boyfriend inspect each of the bizarre pumpkins in turn, picking out his favorite. After seeing Bucky struggle to have an opinion about anything for so long, it was nice to watch him get so excited over something as simple as the type of pumpkin they brought home. It was moments like this when Steve knew he would do everything in his power to give Bucky whatever he wanted. As far as Steve was concerned Bucky had hung the moon, and if he wanted it back Steve would find a way. Surely Tony had some sort of tech for that.

“Those look disgusting,” Steve teased, trying his best to keep his emotions out of his voice. Just because he was occasionally overwhelmed with how fucking much he loved Bucky didn’t mean he needed to cry about it in public.

Bucky snorted as he stood, holding the perfect one. “Have you looked in the mirror recently Stevie?”

“Oh so that’s how it’s gonna be.” Steve quirked an eyebrow, putting his hands on his hips in his best ‘Captain America does not approve of your sass’ pose.

The best part about Bucky though, was that he never took any of Steve’s shit. “Yup,” he said with a pop, shoving the surprisingly heavy pumpkin against Steve’s chest. “That’s how it’s gonna be.”

Steve wrapped his arms around the gourd, holding it close as he watched Bucky. A few strands of dark brown hair had fallen out of his ponytail to frame his face and in the late autumn sun his dark blue eyes sparkled. Feeling like the luckiest man alive, Steve leaned forward. To hell with everyone else around them, he needed to kiss his boyfriend and he needed to do it now.

XXXX

                “How did we not know about apple cider doughnuts?” Bucky groaned, licking the last crumbs from his fingers.

                Apart from the apples and the pumpkins, the orchard sold freshly baked apple cider doughnuts and hot apple cider out of the old barn. After taking one look at a fresh batch, the two soldiers had bought a dozen, taking them outside to enjoy in the sun. 

                “Can this be my favorite part about the future?” Steve sipped the last of his cider with a sigh. Life didn’t get much better than this.

                “Remind me to thank Sam and Bruce when we get back,” Buck mumbled, leaning back on his elbows and resting his head against Steve’s chest.

                Steve nodded, wrapping an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and letting his fingers trail down Bucky’s arm. There was nothing they could possibly do to thank their two teammates for such a wonderful suggestion. Maybe if they shared some of their apples.

XXX

                “Did you boys have a nice time?” The elderly man was joined by his wife when they stopped back by the barn to pay for their apples before heading home. The afternoon was growing old and at this rate they wouldn’t be home until after sunset.

                “It was perfect ma’am.” Bucky gave her his most charming grin as Steve handed over a few bills.

                The famous Barnes charm never failed as she blushed, hiding her giggles behind a hand. “Hope you didn’t ride up on that motorcycle out there,” her husband said as he gave Steve back his change.

                Steve turned to look at Bucky, his face falling as he realized their problem. They had ended up with almost three pounds of apples as well as Bucky’s large pumpkin. Steve’s bike had saddlebags strapped to the back, but they were nowhere near large enough for a three hour drive.

                The owner gave them a smile and held up a finger before heading off to his old pickup truck that was parked just outside the barn. After rummaging around in the bed he came back with a wooden crate and a few yards of rope. “This should help you kids get home.”

                Bucky looked relieved, briefly concerned he was going to be forced to leave his pumpkin behind. Steve gave him his best Captain America smile and tried to hand over more money for the crate. The older man refused to take his money though, insisting that the crate was old and ready to be given a new home anyways. As a compromise, Steve bought another dozen doughnuts for the trip home, insisting that they keep the change.

                When they made it back to the bike, Bucky did his best to strap the crate down and the pumpkin inside. “Fuck! This thing is too damn big!”

                Steve grimaced, giving an apologetic wave to the family next to them. “Buck, there’s kids around,” he hissed.

                Bucky threw his hands in the air in frustration when his knot fell apart for the fourth time. “I’m sorry but it’s not my fault that this fucking pumpkin is too fucking big for the fucking crate!”

                It took a few more tries before everything was safely secured, the apples split between each saddlebag and the pumpkin tied in to the crate. Steve kicked the bike to life as Bucky slid on behind him, plastering himself against Steve’s back and tucking his sun warmed hands under Steve’s shirt again, resting against Steve’s chest.

                They rode back on the west bank of the river, crossing over so they could see the countryside from a new angle. The trees were splendid in all of their glory and if they stopped at every scenic overlook to snack on an apple or make out against the guardrail, well then that was nobody’s business but their own.


	2. Fucking Crate Feels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is 110% Kira's fault. She gave me crate feels and now you have to have them too.

“Wait, Steve, what are you doing!” Bucky called, running down the hall to catch up with his boyfriend.

                Steve paused at the elevator, a confused wrinkle forming in his brow. “I’m just taking the trash down, Buck. You okay?”

                Bucky came skidding to a full stop, frantically grabbing the crate out of Steve’s arms, dumping the trash bag that had been inside on to the ground. “Yeah I just- well, I kinda wanted to keep this.”

                Now that he had the box, Bucky felt a little silly about the whole thing. It had been two days since they had visited the pumpkin patch and in that time, Bucky had gotten to like having the old crate sitting around. Steve’s frown softened in the way it always did whenever Bucky expressed his desire for something. It was a little annoying, having Steve get so excited that he had basic wants but Bucky understood. He had gone so long without the desire for anything that occasionally he also got a little overwhelmed.

                “Sure Buck, but did you have to dump the trash all over the ground?”

                Bucky felt his cheeks flush as he ran his metal hand against the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry Stevie,” he mumbled.

                “Yeah, sure you are,” Steve’s mocking tone was gentle as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to Bucky’s lips before bending down to grab the bags. The elevator dinged and Steve was gone, leaving Bucky to head back to their Avenger’s Tower penthouse alone.

                They had decided to go all out this year on decorations for fall.  A festive wreath hung on their door and pumpkins they had just finished carving were perched out front, while their less successful first attempts were hidden away on their balcony. Bucky’s new prized possession, his large, misshapen, lumpy pumpkin sat on the coffee table in the middle of their living room, making him smile whenever he walked by. It was going to be a sad day when it was time to throw the gourd out.

                Bucky placed the crate down next to the large gourd and went to grab Steve’s laptop. He’d heard Bruce mention something called ‘up-cycling’ that was apparently very big with people in the twenty-first century.

XXXX

                “So what’d you want this old thing for anyways?” Steve asked when he returned, settling down on the couch to look over Bucky’s shoulder.

                “I think I’m gonna turn it in to a side-table, we could put a lamp on it or something.” He was scrolling through something called ‘Pinterest’. Modern people really liked to do crafty things with their trash and then show the rest of the world, it was a little ridiculous.

                “You know we could also just go buy a table,” Steve said, resting his chin on Bucky’s shoulder. “We’ve each got over seventy years of Army pension saved up.”

                Bucky looked up at the crate with a sad smile. “I know I just, I don’t know, I really like this crate.” It was going to sound so stupid trying to say it out loud, but he needed Steve to understand.

                Steve nodded gently, like he was trying really hard to understand what Bucky was trying convey to him but coming up short every time. It had always been easier for him, he had grown in to the body he had always felt like he needed. Bucky had been forced in to this new body, dragged kicking and screaming from his old form and turned in to a broken machine. Now here he was, sitting on a couch in the twenty-first century, wrapped in Steve’s arms, getting overly attached to a box.

                “It’s just- I know it doesn’t look like much but we found it together. Yeah, it’s kind of old and beat up, and it’s little and broken but it’s still good. Yeah, still good.”

                Steve turned on the couch, a gentle finger turning Bucky’s head until he was staring in to those bottomless blue eyes. The deep crease in his brow was back and Steve looked like he was doing his best to hold back a tear. It had been hard on him to watch his best friend and lover try to pick up the pieces of who he used to be and put together something new.

                “I’m never letting you watch a Disney movie again,” Steve whispered.

                Bucky couldn’t help the snort of hysterical laughter he let out, leaning forward to rest against Steve’s forehead. That is why he loved this little punk; he never let Bucky get away with any of his shit.

                “But Steve, ohana means family.” Bucky let his face fall in to his best kicked puppy pout, and damn if his lower lip didn’t quiver as well.

                “You’re a menace Bucky Barnes,” Steve grumbled, unable to resist leaning in to suck on that pouty lip.

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2 done! Can you tell that I really miss living in New York this time of year?
> 
> Thanks as always to my beautiful beta AuthorOutofTime who encourages my madness while she fixes my mistakes. Also, she made me emotional about the damn crate. Just imagine that Bucky kept it and re-purposed it when they got home, because there was something soothing about taking something that was old and a little beaten up and making it worth something again. Yeah, enjoy your tears
> 
> Please feel free to let me know what you think, comments and kudos make my day and encourage me to get off my butt and make more fluffy goodness. Thank you as always for reading and I'll see you tomorrow for day 3!
> 
> Also, come talk to me about these losers and the actors that play them on tumblr at ScienceofSociopaths!


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